'On the Edge' Donegal residency (2019)

Whooper swans flying in darkness

I am currently in Donegal for the month of November photographing, among other things, wild swans at dusk and dawn and even wilder Atlantic waves. Thanks to Street Level Photoworks and Artlink I am on a residency here, living in the small but lively town of Buncrana with a studio space at Fort Dunree. The swans migrate here from Iceland every winter.

Four years ago I began a project about migration. I was prompted by the tragedy of what was happening in the Mediterranean at that time but wanted to focus instead on Scotland. Many Scots who are opposed to welcoming people from other countries forget their own history, both national and familial. In 2015 and 2016 I travelled throughout the highlands and islands flying a kite and a drone to make aerial images of abandoned settlements. Some of the settlements were forcibly cleared as long as two hundred years ago. When visiting those, usually desolate, places I always asked myself where all the people had gone. In search of answers I made my way to Nova Scotia last year. On Cape Breton Island I found evidence of where some Scots had ended up. All the road signs are written in two languages, English and Gaelic, and many place names are borrowed directly from Scotland.

This year I started thinking about the subject of migration on a more personal level. The greatest human tragedy suffered by any European country during the nineteenth century was triggered by the failure of the potato crop in Ireland (and Scotland) for several years from 1845. A million Irish people died and more than that number migrated, primarily to North America. As many as one hundred thousand Irish people came to Scotland in the ten year period from 1845, most of them passing through or settling in Glasgow. At that time, the entire population of Scotland was only 2.8 million. Irish migration therefore had a huge impact on Scotland’s culture and economy, but today we hardly acknowledge it at all.

My Great uncle Denis, Great grandfather Alexander, Grandfather Hugh

At what point do we become so assimilated into our new culture that we are no longer considered immigrants? Clearly in Scotland today there are still barriers to acceptance. A ‘foreign’ sounding name hardly matters but it helps if it’s easy for the locals to pronounce. A strange accent is definitely a problem but usually only a small one as long as you can communicate in English. Sadly, skin colour falls into a different category. Today the civic concept of nationality is much stronger in Scotland than the ethnic, but racism persists. In the eyes of the bigoted, someone who is not white can never really be considered Scottish no matter how long they or their family have lived here. At least two thirds of the Irish arriving in Scotland in the nineteenth century stood out as different by both their language and religion, but they were white. In spite of widespread racial prejudice towards the Irish in Scotland, after a few generations they literally blended in with their longer established neighbours. It is all too easy today to completely forget the hardships of Irish migrants to Scotland in the not too distant past because we have become almost totally assimilated as native Scottish.

So what is the point of remembering where we have come from, especially if we are already assimilated and accepted into the club of a given national identity? One reason for remembering is to acknowledge that we are all only a few generations away from family members who have been forced in one way or another to leave their homes for another country, often making perilous journeys in the process. What is happening today to people from Syria and South Yemen, once happened to the people who are living in the countries where they seek refuge. Migration is a problem for all of humanity, not just for specific countries or peoples torn by economic or military strife. Climate change almost guarantees that the problem will increase in future.

Tory Island from Drumnatinny beach, Falcarragh

In coming to Donegal for this residency I have researched the movement of people between Ireland and Scotland. Along the way I have learned some eye opening facts about my own family history and its connection to County Donegal. I'd always assumed we came from Falcarragh where my fluent Gaelic speaking great aunt Ellen lived. It turns out she was actually born in Scotland but chose at some point to return to Donegal. My great grandfather Alexander came over to Glasgow in the 1870s. His father, William, came too. William's occupation was noted as Canal Watchman. There aren't any canals to speak of in Donegal, so it is likely this referred to his occupation in Scotland. From Cowcaddens in Glasgow, where they first settled, its a short walk to the Forth and Clyde canal and its major industrial hub of the time, Port Dundas. Coincidentally, I've worked there myself off and on for the last ten years. William is buried in St Kentigern's cemetery in Lambhill, which I drive past every day. Alexander and his wife Catherine had nine children all born in the west of Scotland. Ellen and my grandfather Hugh were among the lucky seven who survived infancy. I knew none of this family history until now because I've always focused my research at a more general level, but coming to Donegal and making these discoveries brings everything to life. It gives a strange feeling to walk in the fields where my great great grandfather, William, and his father John held tenancies in the middle of the nineteenth century. I even touched the stones of the ruined buildings where they once lived. It turns out they tilled the soil in the townland of Roosky eight miles due west of Derry and quite far away from the coastal town of Falcarragh where Ellen settled and my own father visited her as a child. 

My younger brother David had planned to come over and visit me during my stay in Donegal. He died six weeks ago and so I never got to share these new discoveries with him but his sudden passing underlined for me the importance of keeping alive the familial history of where we have come from. Memories fade and can be lost forever in the blinking of an eye. Technology is a wonderful thing in many ways but it can also dehumanise us. The internet shrinks the world in one way by informing us in near real time of what might be happening in Hong Kong or North America. Ironically however it also distances us from the problems of others by creating a false sense of reality, one where we are spectators rather than participants. Remembering past diasporas, such as those of the Irish and Scots, should encourage a more considered response to today's migrations from other parts of the world.

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Thanks to my second cousin, Denis McElhinney, whose genealogical expertise has helped inform these recent discoveries, and for sharing the image above of our grandfathers and great grand father

Huge thanks to Street Level Photoworks and Artlink for making this 'On the Edge' residency possible, supported by funding from the British Council

Interview hosted by Artlink, Fort Dunree, Donegal
http://streetlevelphotoworks.org
http://www.artlink.ie
https://www.britishcouncil.org